


Does My Heart Bleed?

by RosalyZeclack



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Lokane Week Holiday Celebration 2020, Snippets, experimental fic, lokaneweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28626852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosalyZeclack/pseuds/RosalyZeclack
Summary: She didn’t expect to end up like this. Seated at the back of the library, as the daylight filtered out to darkness. Her fingertips pressed harshly into her palms.He didn’t come.His attention was like a flood, so much he had poured in her that being cut adrift was damning.He didn’t come.An experiment on snippets.Written for Lokane Week Holiday Celebration 2020. Prompts: College/University AU +I lean toward him, close enough for a kiss. His eyes widen. The look in his face is some commingling of panic and desire. It is a heady feeling, having power over someone. (Holy Black, The Cruel Prince)
Relationships: Jane Foster & Loki, Jane Foster/Loki
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36
Collections: Lokane Week Holiday Celebration 2020





	Does My Heart Bleed?

**Author's Note:**

> I overshot the deadline by miles. My sincere apologies to the Lokaneweek admins. So um kids, don't experiment when you have deadlines.
> 
> *Work Title subject to change. 
> 
> Song for this fic: Talk To Me, _Zayn_  
>  Unrelated, but it was in the playlist.
> 
> Kudos will be appreciated. Do comment if you have feedback on this shoddy experiment with past and present scenes intermingling. I wanted to do a back and forth for the longest time.
> 
> Virtual hugs to everyone.

She didn’t expect to end up like this. Seated at the back of the library, as the daylight filtered out to darkness. Her fingertips pressed harshly into her palms. _He didn’t come._ His attention was like a flood, so much he had poured in her that being cut adrift was damning. _He didn’t come._

So deeply woven in shock that she nearly missed the librarian calling for closing time. She slowly raised her head, out of tune with the world. The library was emptying and she threatened to be the only one remaining. She needed to leave!

Hastily, she shoved her belongings into her backpack. Her pulse was loud in her ears, erratic, as she rushed through the door into the chilly air. She paused, her free hand clutching her jacket tighter around her frame. A headache was forming beneath her temple. How was she going to find him when she doesn’t know where he stays?

* * *

It wasn’t the first time she’d met him per se (that honour goes to their lecture) or the second (similar friend group) or the third or… well, she’s _seen_ him quite some many times throughout the first few months, but they’d never actually held a _decent_ conversation up until then. And what she means by decent was his persistent need to debate with her while she held back the urge to throw a Britannica at his head. She had no doubt that said book was heavy and would at least mess with his perfect dark hair, but doing so would have only made him more determined.

Jane didn’t know how he found her the first time; she was hidden behind a mountain of books, papers spread hazardously all over the table while she studied theory after theory. The back of the library was quiet, empty of other students and had the best lighting coming from the windows and the artificial lamps after dark. It quickly became her personal space since she was there nearly all the time. That was until he decided to break her peace.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Loki had said, casually leaning against her table, arms crossed. She’d peered at him through her barrier of books, eyebrow raised. “Your argument with Smith was amicable.”

 _So that’s why he’d sought her out._ She scoffed. “ _Professor_ Smith,” she corrected, turning back to her paper. Arguing with her professor on space travel wasn’t something she wanted to do, but it became increasingly difficult when the old man still taught outdated theories. 

“Does it matter? Clearly, you seemed to understand more than him but –”

“Yeah, whatever, can you leave me alone now?” Something in his expression had changed when she said that. Jane wasn’t the best judge of character, but she knew she had somehow annoyed the normally silent man in front of her.

“Hmm, I do believe I won’t,” he had said, and that was the beginning of it all.

* * *

She realized, albeit a bit too late, that she shouldn’t have been as rude when he first spoke to her. But his amused face, arrogant posture and that goddamn perfect neatness of his made her feel self-conscious. And the gall of him to speak to her only when she argued with a professor even though he had sat next to her silently during lectures the entire semester ticked her off.

She despised all of him. His polished shoes, his designer clothes and that arrogant smirk of his when he found her amusing. She didn’t know why he kept bothering her; clearly he should have had better things to do, with being one half of the Odinson brothers. But talking to her, arguing with _her_ , seemed to be his priority. She wondered where this Loki went when he broods inside the lecture hall instead. 

* * *

“Have you no response, Jane?” His go to line when she refuses to engage with him. She could have always left whenever he came by. She could have complained to the librarian. She could have also simply tried to bore him with her intellectual talks. But ignoring him egged him on. It thrilled her in a way, but she couldn’t fathom why when she didn’t like him.

She scowled, noticing the twinkle in his eyes. She didn’t know what he found amusing about her.

“Why do you that?” She frowned at his question and tensed further when he leaned forward. “Yes, that.”

“Taking notes?”

“No, silly woman. You’re stiff when I’m around.” Oh… Darcy would tell her she was often too tense for her own good, too focused, too stubborn, too–

“No, I’m not. Since when?” _Seriously, she probably behaves like that with everyone. Where did he get this idea?_

“You tensed when I reached for your pen yesterday too.”

“You don’t take notes in class, Loki. Forgive me if I witnessed a miracle happening.”

“When I stood behind you during picture day?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, let me become a blur when I sway in the frame.”

“And the time I caught you from falling?”

“I can’t help it when you can’t keep your hands to yourself, Loki.” She shrugged, ignoring his piercing glare. 

She glanced up at him when he stayed silent for the longest time. He was watching her with a slight tilt to his head. Her cheeks warmed, blood rushing to her face. 

“Oh, I see.” He said, with that satisfied grin on his face.

* * *

What annoyed her the most was how she couldn’t dislike him at all. He was charming, when he wanted to be. He was interesting, far more than she expected from her discreet observations. He kept her on her toes, even when she tried to remain nonchalant in front of him. Excitement would bubble up in her whenever he sought her out. She’d probably never tell him that – she didn’t want him to have more power over her than he already does. She’d already gravitated too close to him. 

* * *

The one day she didn’t want him to actually come was the day he was earlier than her. His feet were propped up on the chair beside him and he was flipping through the pages of a book. She was too tired to muster a proper complain, stumbling into her chair opposite him. He looked up at her, raising an eyebrow but she didn’t respond, choosing to bury her face in her arms.

She heard the thud of the book landing on the table and the scrape of his chair as he stood up but she didn’t move. If all it took was her ragged appearance to repulse him, she would’ve done that weeks ago. 

She must have drifted off, because the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the space in front of her, startling her. She cracked her eyes open, lifting her head from her arms. Loki was there again, holding out a Styrofoam cup. She frowned at his display.

“It’s not poisoned, I assure you.”

“That’s not–” She snatched the cup from him, taking a tentative sip. She didn’t have to see him to know the tension radiating from him. She looked up. “It’s okay. Thank you.”

He would never admit it, but his shoulders slumped in relief. 

* * *

She looked around campus for a bit, but she knew he wasn’t the kind of person to stay behind. There was a bonfire gathering in the courtyard that Darcy had told her about, and joined, with no doubt. Jane was tempted to call her, ask her how to find him, but Darcy would ask unnecessary questions of why Jane would care in the first place.

She sat down on a bench, feet hurting from all the walking she’d done. She’d fiddled with her phone; there was one other person she could call…

* * *

Sometimes she was jealous of him. He never paid attention in class but always got grades as good as hers. She rarely sees him take down notes but he can debate the theory of relativity with her as if he wrote it himself.

Sometimes she admires him, but hides her face quickly if he catches her. 

It’s a steady rise of emotions; days, weeks, months– irritation turns to excitement, boredom becomes anticipation. He always sits opposite her, but every time they meet, she leans a little more forward. The pitch of her voice becomes higher, the butterflies in her stomach more. 

She thinks more of running her fingers through his hair than throwing a book at his head. His eyes twinkling like little green stars, and she has to pinch herself to not stare and give him the satisfaction of that. 

She likes making him frown instead; she didn’t like the upturn of his lips haunting her. It makes her feel light, giddy. Because everything he does pulls her more and it becomes harder to push away.

Sometimes he brings her coffee, when he knew she stayed up late. She wonders if he feels what she does. Then realises he wouldn’t be there at all if he didn’t. 

* * *

“There you are.” She hears his voice. His voice filled with concern and relief all bundled up with the indifference he’s desperately trying to show. 

She doesn’t turn to look at him. “I wanted to get a book first.” 

“You could have left your things on the table first.” She felt him behind her, the heat of his presence warming her. 

“I could have.” She said, giving him a look over her shoulder. She saw him swallow, green eyes darkening, so she took a step forward, bumping into the shelf. He was close! 

“Your book?” He asked, after an uncomfortable silence. 

“Yeah… I…” She cleared her throat instead, reaching up, only for her to realise the book was too high up.

“Which one?”

“That one.” 

She should have regretted saying anything when he pushed her forward as he reached for the book instead. His free hand caged her in, clutching onto the shelf. Her front was pressed against the shelf, back flush with his chest. The warmth he radiated seeped onto her skin. Blood rushed to her face and her fingers grabbed onto the shelf harshly. His breath was tickling her neck and if she could just tilt– 

She turned around in his arms, her breath catching when she looked up at him. It was the closest she had ever been with him, sharing the air between them. She bit her lip. He let out a strangled groan. Her toes curled. It was suffocating. He was suffocating her. 

She stood on her toes, leaning closer to his impossible height. She had the sudden urge to kiss him. His pupils were blown wide, face betraying a mix of panic and desire. The butterflies in her stomach raged a storm inside. She wanted to kiss him so bad. 

She tilted her head, lips brushing his briefly. He didn’t move, and he didn’t back down from the stare either. His breathing was harsh and she hadn’t even kissed him properly yet. 

But that’s what it built up to, right? The provoking conversations, the glint in his eyes when she responded, the smile she’d let light her face when she thought he wasn’t looking, keeping straight faces when they played with their feet underneath the table, the decreasing distance between their seats in lecture– 

She kisses him again, harder, hands grabbing at his collar to keep her balance while pulling him down to her level. If it was possible to be physically closer, they were now. The hard wood of the shelf dug into her spine, but she couldn’t stop– couldn’t move. It was wet, hungry. His embrace tight, as if she’d sift through his fingers but she wasn’t going anywhere. 

The book fell to the floor, forgotten.

* * *

She somehow managed to get an address from Thor. She could have asked for a number instead but she was already across the road to his apartment building and she wanted to see him. She thought about his absence as she ran up the stairs to his door, now that the panic has subsided. What if he didn’t show up because he didn’t like the way she kissed? What if he thought she was really just a plain Jane? What if she had misread him and he hadn’t want to kiss her at all the day before?

She could feel her pulse rise as she approached his door. It was white, like every other door she passed in the building. And suddenly, she couldn’t take it anymore. She knocked on the door, so frantic that she scared both herself and the guy stepping into his apartment two doors down. She didn’t pay attention to his startle; she was busy stopping herself from changing her mind, when the door opened. 

“Jane?” He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept at all. Hair unkempt, clothes wrinkled. It was the right opposite from his usual perfection that she was speechless. 

“Jane?” He asked, grabbing her shoulder. 

“You didn’t come.” She muttered, looking down at the floor. _Why was it such a big deal to her?_

“Pardon?”

“You didn’t come!” She finally yelled, stepping closer to him. “I waited the whole day and you didn’t come.”

He pulled her in, closing the door behind her. “I just caught a cold, Jane.”

And then all her worries, all her panic, _everything_ , just halted. “Cold? You mean you fell sick?”

“Yes? I suppose I should have used an umbrella last night.”

“Oh my God…” Her shoulders slumped, exhausted. “I thought… oh my God…” 

“What did you think?” He said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She blushed, backing away from him. 

“I– it was nothing.” Her back hit the door. 

“No?” His hands caged her in again. 

“No, it was– stop it, Loki. I’m not kissing you while you’re sick.” 

He grinned. “Okay.”

She kissed him anyways. 


End file.
